Hands
by abigryff11
Summary: A series of happy, unrelated drabbles centered around the hands of our favourite couple. All school years will be included and chronology will not be observed. J/L.
1. Button

**A/N: Hi! This is my first ever story on here, so please limit the heckling and tomato throwing. I was doodling in class yesterday and realized I had ink stains all along my hands/wrists. Then, I got lost in thought about how telling a person's hands are. From there, my mind put it in the context of James and Lily, and voila. A collection of drabbles about our favorite wayward couple, with specific focus on their hands.**

 ***Disclaimer: I do not, nor do I wish to ever, own the rights to the magical world of Harry Potter that J.K. Rowling has so graciously welcomed us into. It seems like far too big a job and one I am willing to leave in the hands of the far more capable (thank you, Jo).**

She's going to be late. She really is. The thought enters her mind and exits, just as quickly. A few months ago, that particular thought sequence may have stirred panic or fear into her heart. Fifth-year Lily Evans, however, is no longer a stranger to tardiness. The two are well-acquainted and have been for a good while now. In fact, it was more difficult to recall the occurrences she had been on time to Care of Magical Creatures in the past four months than it was to recall the moments of tardiness. Even still, Lily walked with purpose out to the edge of the Forbidden Forest where the rest of her fellow Gryffindors, along with the sixth-year Ravenclaws would be well into their lesson.

It was just too easy. Too easy to let her eyes drift closed again after her dorm mates left for breakfast. Too easy to enjoy the long shower that was afforded to her while the other sixth-year girls were in the Great Hall. And far, far too easy to slip completely unnoticed into the back of Care of Magical Creatures, late.

Every single day.

It was the year for O.W.L.s and Lily knew she should care far more about her attendance (not to mention her attentiveness) in the class, but there was a certain sort of pleasure from this routine of tardiness. Ninety-nine percent of Lily Evans life was put together and polished. This one percent felt _good._ She further justified her daily rebellion by reminding herself that no one even noticed. _Lovely Lily,_ as Professor Slughorn so affectionately and sickeningly called her, was still very much in fact.

But of course someone noticed. It was too generous on Miss Evans' part to believe that not even one of her 80+ tardies has been noticed.

James Potter was a backseat student. Unlike Lily, he had lost the battle against tardiness early in his first-year. Although, to be fair, James never quite raged against it. It was expected of him, though. By peers and professors, alike. In fact, James had not received a detention of this lateness since third year. The Hogwarts staff came to the mutual conclusion that punishing James Potter for a crime he committed several times a day was far more consequential for the staff members involved than James Potter himself. Even so, it is not as if there were not other offenses that landed James in detention on a regular basis.

Somewhere between fourth and fifth year, he had recognized the slack he was being given concerning his attendance. In a moment of altruism, James decided to try his best to at least make it easy on the professors to overlook his late arrivals. The backseat became James' in every class. He could silently slide in without so much as a look from anyone, except for whichever Marauder happened to be sitting next to him.

In Care of Magical Creatures, this individual happened to be Peter Pettigrew. Remus had opted out of this O.W.L. on account of loathing for any additional association with "magical creatures" and Sirius, well, he very well could have been technically enrolled in the class. But, if James' achilles heel was arriving "late," Sirius' was arriving "at all."

James watched as Lily snuck into the back of the small clearing. He glanced at his watch—9:12. Of course. She arrived twelve minutes late every day. Never eleven. Never thirteen. Always twelve. James couldn't help but smile to himself. Even in her tardiness, she was exact. He supposed she couldn't help it. She was too innately _Lily_ to afford even a bit of inconsistency. Even still, those twelve minutes confounded him every day. _Why?_ Why twelve minutes? Why every day? And _why in Merlin's beard would she choose a class as easy as Care of Magical Creatures to skive off when there were classes like Arithmancy at this school?_ The routines and workings of Lily Evans never failed to amaze and befuddle James Potter.

He continued to watch her out the corner of his eye. The fifth-year girl fished through her bag for a quill, ink, and parchment. Then, drawing her wand from her hip, she straightened the materials on the makeshift tree-stump of a desk in front of her. Frustration was etched onto her face as she tried to stop the quill from rolling off the bumpy edges of the wooded platform. Finally, she stabilized her materials into a perfectly straight line. Parchment, quill, ink, with wand perpendicular along the top. Like always.

Next, she took the hair tie that was around her wrist and gathered her hair into a ponytail, twisting her **hand** round and round the thick bouquet of red until there was no slack in the band. Sweeping the nape of her neck with her left hand, she insured there were no stray hairs left isolated. This particular motion gave James a small chill, as it did everyday when she reached this part of her class-prep routine.

Still unsatisfied with her situation, she maneuvered her right hand to undo the button on her left sleeve, struggling to use her left hand to hold the sleeve in place. Finally, the button snaked out of the button hole and her sleeve went slack into her hand. She smoothly pressed the sleeve into a two-inch roll and continued it up to her elbow. Even though Lily did this every day, James always found humor in noticing the difficulty with which she accomplished this particular part of the pattern. Before she moved to roll the right sleeve, she popped her fingers. This was yet another idiosyncrasy of Lily's that he found amusing, and somewhat baffling. He could hear his Aunt Frieda now, chastising this habit that James himself had fell victim to when he was a toddler. _Jamie, dear, if you continue to pop your fingers in that horrendous way, your knuckles will be three times their size when you are older!_ James laughed internally, imagining Lily's delicate hands with large, manly knuckles protruding out. _Not likely, Aunt Frieda._

Finally, Lily moved to work on her right sleeve. Using the same tactic on this sleeve, she used her left hand to clumsily maneuver the small white button around. Obviously dominant in her right hand, Lily was struggling. The frustrated battle against the button continued for what seemed like minutes. James was having a difficult time restraining his own hands from reaching across to assist the button's mobility. Somehow, though, he thought that may not pan out as he would desire, considering the red-head's intense loathing of himself.

"Agh!" A quick gasp of frustration flew out of Lily's mouth as the small button escaped from her grasp entirely and shot from the shirt onto the dirt in front of her.

It was just too easy. Too easy to let out a bark of laughter at the girl's misfortune. Too easy to forget that they were in a classroom of students eager to learn about Pogrebins and Pygmy Puffs. _Well,_ James thought, _'eager' may be an overstatement._ Too easy to lose sight of his mission to remain unannounced in his spying on Lily Evans' daily "late routine."

With all the commotion in the back of the class, no students even turned around. Even Peter continued to snooze next to James without so much as a snort of surprise or twitch of consciousness. Lily looked at James with wide-eyes, as if she had been caught snogging a hippogriff. He stared back with equal shock.

They had been found out. Lily in her daily routine of minor rebellion and James in his observation and appreciation of the said routine. Neither spoke for the first few seconds, until-

"Potter." She spat, quietly, leaning forward to avoid the professor's attention. "What are you staring at?"

James leaned forward, quickly settling into his normal swagger. "Well, Evans," he whispered, haughtily. "I was just about to commend you on actually showing up to class today. You were beginning to gather a bit of a reputation."

She looked taken aback at this. "What?! I have never been more than t-"

"Twelve minutes late." He beat her to it, with a roll of his eyes. "I know."

Pink etched into her cheeks. "Sometimes its thirt-"

"It's always twelve and you know it. Honestly, Evans, you can't even rebel without adding order to it. It's a right shame."

"Well, I-" She tried.

"Give me your arm." He whispered.

"What?"

"Your arm. Your sleeves are asymmetrical and it's bothering me." He pointed at her left sleeve, forgotten in the argument of the moment.

"You're bothered by my _asymmetry?_ Potter, you pay entirely too much attention to details."

He grabbed her arm roughly and quickly rolled the sleeve to match her two-inch left roll. "There."

"Thank you." She muttered quietly, somewhat embarrassed, turning back toward the front.

After a few minutes of listening to Professor Kettleburn drone on about a creature they had both lost track of, James leaned back toward her. "Evans."

"Hmm?"

"If you're going to lose a button on your shirt, at least make it one in a more interesting place." He quipped with a lazy smile and pointed look toward her chest.

She quickly pulled back and used her "delicate" hand to flip him off. _Lovely Lily, indeed._


	2. Stirring

**A/N: Okay, I'm past the first-post jitters so I would love any feedback you may have on this. Thanks for reading.**

 ***Disclaimer: I do not, nor do I wish to ever, own the rights to the magical world of Harry Potter that J.K. Rowling has so graciously welcomed us into.**

"Well, let's go ahead and get started." Lily grabbed the cauldron that was in front of her and sorted out the ingredients.

James looked at her, sideways, waiting for the insult or biting remark. Nothing. _What is going on?_

"I made this a couple different times last year for fun, so, if you want, I can do all of the potion work and you can start on the written report. I should be done soon and then I can pick up wherever you leave off." She explained, matter-of-factly, flipping to the page of instructions for Skele-Gro. It was a statement, more than a suggestion.

"Yeah, okay, sure." James grabbed some parchment and fished around in his bag for a quill. "Uh, Evans…do you have a quill I could use?"

"Of course. Here you go." She stated with small smile, passing, him a quill.

 _A smile. What?_

They both began to do their work, settling into a silence. "How many inches, again?"

"Only ten! If you can do the first four, I'll take over. No worries." She answered, not looking up from her brew.

It was only eleven in the morning and this day had already been full of surprises. When James walked in to Potions, he had found his usual desk-mate missing.

"Uh, where's Sirius?"

"Hmm?" The seat thief had looked up from her book, casually. "Oh, hi, James."

 _James._

"Where's Sirius?" James had repeated, suspicion settling in. "He normally sits here."

"Oh, he's sitting with Hestia." As if this were an obvious assumption.

James had looked to the front of the room for verification, and, sure enough, saw his best mate sitting at the potions table in the very front and center of the room. A table Sirius Black had certainly never sat at, by choice, before. As if he could feel James' eyes, Sirius turned around in his seat and grinned at James with a shrug, conveying he was just as confused. _So, Lily had initiated the seat change?_

"Okay." James stuttered, unsure of what else to say, sliding apprehensively into the seat next to Lily. She continued to read.

"Have you ever read Dickens?" She had popped her head up, suddenly, after a few minutes. James had not been entirely sure she was even speaking to him.

"Dickens?"

"Charles Dickens. Muggle author. Great Expectations." She had explained.

James had shook his head. "Oh. No…I've never heard of him."

"Well, he's very good." Lily had returned to her book.

It was now a good fifteen minutes into the class and she had yet to offer any explanation for her seat change. James was torn between broaching the subject and risking an argument or continuing to sit in uncomfortable confusion. This was all too weird. Lily _hated_ him. If she was required to speak to him for any reason, the interaction was as short as possible and her words were filled with bite and disgust. In the rare chance that she _chose_ to initiate an interaction with James, it was simply to insult his behavior or rudely correct his mistakes. But here she was—sitting next to him, seemingly by choice, engaging in normal, human interaction. She had even smiled at him and called him _James,_ for Merlin's sake.

"Alright, that has to brew for a couple minutes. What do you have so far?" She moved her gaze from her cauldron to James, with a pleasant smile.

"Um, not that much yet. I was just finishing up on the ingredient descriptions and was about to move to discussing the first reaction colors." The sixth-year boy slowly said, pushing this parchment toward Lily.

"That's a great start!" The red-head exclaimed, almost _happily?_ "Do you want to keep going or do you want me to finish it out?"

"Well, I feel bad that you've done most of the work. I'll finish out the paper."

"Nonsense. This is fun to me. Kind of like Christmas!" She broke off into laughter that was just a little too loud and a little too long for the situation. A couple Hufflepuffs sitting in front of them turned around to see what was going on. The idea of Lily Evans laughing in the presence of James Potter was a bit much for most to imagine.

"Evans." James leaned towards her, whispering. "Are you…okay?"

"Lily."

"What?"

"My name is Lily. Not Evans. You never call me Lily." She had finally stopped cackling, and was taking deep breaths to restabilize herself.

James looked at her, a bit taken aback. "Do you…want…me to call you Lily?"

"Do you think that I'm a bitch?" Well, he didn't see that one coming.

"What?" He looked at her, incredulously, trying to figure out where that had come from and if she was being serious or not.

Lily's mouth twitched a bit and she used her hands to smooth her skirt out, mindlessly. "Do you think that I'm a bitch?" She repeated, slowly and quietly. "Like do you think I'm an uptight prick who just enjoys the failure of other people?"

James thought for a minute. Here sat Lily Evans, the subject of his affections for several years now. He had spent his fourth and fifth years asking her out in the most creative of ways. She had never quite appreciated his attempts, but he had truly meant well. He just came on a bit _strong,_ as Remus had put it on several occasions. Thankfully for Lily, and the rest of the school, James had calmed down a bit this school year and took a more hands-off approach. The reality of Lily Evans' abhorrence of James started to sink in and he pulled back, choosing to instead admire from afar. And admire, he did. But he was much less in-her-face. To some, it may have seemed as if his interest in the redhead had faltered. This was an entirely incorrect assumption.

If anything, James' physical separation from her only made his adoration of the girl grow. He was able to appreciate things about her in silence. Like the way she placed two fingers on top of her wand when she executed spells instead of the usual single finger. And the way she asked people about their days and actually cared to hear the true answer. He got to observe the scrunch of her nose when she was concentrating in Arithmancy and the way she consistently fidgeted with the purple braided bracelet she had worn since first year.

This hadn't blinded him to the areas she fell short in, however. He knew she was not perfect. She skipped breakfast most mornings, and when she did appear, she was grumpy and short with everyone around her. Her hair was almost never adequately brushed. She was far too concerned with her academic performance, unafraid to ask others about their own work purely for the sake of superior comparison. She was an awful singer. She could charm professors out of their knickers and then curse them as soon as they turned their back on her.

All of this did not even take into account the awful things she had thrown at James himself, over the years. Yes, he had been obnoxious and forthright. But she had met every one of his quips and pranks, with equal ferocity. She was not afraid to throw her own hexes at James in his moments of immaturity. She had dubbed him and his friends "idiots with no chance of a successful future." She had verbally wished for his death on several occasions and eagerly spread rumors about him she knew not to be true. She had given him the wrong homework assignments, purely for the cruelty of it. Time and time again, she refused to give him the benefit of the doubt. He was guilty until proven innocent in Lily's eyes, and all of Hogwarts knew that James Potter would never be "innocent" by anyone's standard, much less the standard of _Lovely Lily._

Even so. _Do you think that I'm a bitch?_ "No, of course not." He replied, firmly.

His confidence surprised Lily. "Really?"

"You're a lot of things, Lily Evans, but you're not a bitch." He reinforced.

She looked back toward the cauldron, picking the wooden spoon up to resume stirring it. "It's turning purple, with gaseous bubbles forming at the surface. We should include that in the report."

"Okay."

She stirred in silence, not removing her eyes from the cauldron. James watched her hand smoothly rotate in a clockwise motion for several minutes. He always found it interesting that she would choose to exert the extra energy to stir with her hands when she could have easily enchanted the spoon to stir on it's own accord at a consistent pace.

"About two more minutes and we should be done." It was truly amazing how constant Lily maintained the speed and rotation of the brew. "The purple has darkened and the bubbles receded. It's a marrish reaction." James scribbled the notes down.

"Sirius called me a bitch."

He looked over at Lily. "Don't listen to anything Sirius says. He's a toss-"

"Remus agreed." Still stirring.

That statement surprised James. Lily and Remus had always been sort of friends. Or at least _friendly._ They had been prefects together for the past two years and seemed to get along well, from what other students could tell anyway. "Remus called you a bitch?"

"Well, Sirius said it, and Remus kind of tried to apologize for him, but he ended up just confirming what Sirius said." James waited for further explanation. Lily sighed. "Remus was late to meet me for rounds, and Sirius was in the common room, so I asked if he had seen Remus. I wasn't meaning to be accusatory. I just wondered if Remus got caught up or had switched shifts or something. But Sirius snapped and then I snapped and then Remus appeared to play peacemaker…as usual." All the while stirring.

"That sounds normal. Remus doesn't think-"

"When we were doing our rounds, he tried to apologize for Sirius's behavior and so I laughed it off, and Remus said that Sirius just never understood my _personality._ When I asked him what kind of personality he meant, he explained that he meant the personality of a bitch."

"He said that?"

"Well, he said the personality of someone who likes to be right, no matter the cost. Someone who likes ending the fun of others for the sake of order and neatness. Someone who enjoys things to go her own way, without bother or change. Someone who will enforce that consistency, even at the expense of others."

"Oh." Remus _did_ call her a bitch.

"I don't hate you." Lily kept stirring. "I know I yell at you often and I don't ask you about your family or sit by you at dinner, but I don't hate you."

This was a shift. "It's okay, Evans, I don't…"

"No, it's not okay. I don't hate you. You think I do and so do Sirius and Remus and everyone else in this school. But I don't hate you and I never have." She spoke quickly, now, as if she had only this one moment to say everything she needed to say. Somehow, her hand remained completely consistent in it's stirring pace. "We're…different. And I have a personality that is…particular. But I don't hate you."

"Okay."

"I don't hate you, James." She looked at him this time, still stirring. Her forest green eyes bore into his own cloudy hazel ones.

"You don't hate me." It was almost as if he needed to reassure her that he believed her.

"I don't know why I say most of the things I say. I just get upset and I can't stop myself. I barely have a filter and I just say whatever comes to my head, regardless of if its rude, but I don't even mean most of the things I say. I just say them and I truly don't know why. They just come out of my mouth and then it's too late to take them back, so I continue to back them up." She was rambling now. All the while, consistently stirring.

James listened, silently, eyes on her hands as they hypnotically stirred the brew. Was she seeking encouragement? Reassurance? Did she want him to defend his friends? Or dispel their claims? He had never had so much as a cordial conversation with Lily. How was he to be expected to gauge her emotional desires?

"It's finished." She stopped stirring, setting the wooden spoon on the table next to the cauldron. "The scent remained consistent, but the temperature definitely increased. The consistency is much thicker—more of a goo than a slime. Don't include the words "goo" or "slime" on the report. It's settled into a deep purple shade."

James quickly wrote down the observations as she listed them. Adding a few sentences about the practical use and application of Skele-Gro, he noticed the report was getting lengthy. He measured it—ten inches. "We're done."

"I'm sorry if I've seemed like-"

"Evans. Lily. I don't know what you're going on about, but you certainly don't owe any apologies to me so cut that out right now. If I was bothered by the way you talked to me or my friends, I would have let you know ages ago. As you've pointed out on several occasions, I rarely hold back when it comes to words." He wasn't really sure where he was going with this, but vulnerable Lily was a weird Lily to be face-to-face with in the middle of Potions and he needed to amend this situation, fast. "You're uniquely you and there is absolutely nothing wrong with that. If Sirius and Remus want to call you a bitch, let them. You're too _lovely_ to hate anyone, and everyone knows that. You care about your grades, like you care about your friends—deeply and with great devotion. There is nothing wrong with that. Your moral compass is strong and you are unafraid to impose that on others. You're a Gryffindor, so that one isn't exactly your fault. You like order and neatness, but that's a very needed and wonderful thing in our world of chaos. You yelling at me or not _asking about my family_ is not grounds for dismissal as a decent human being. I admire your authenticity and willingness to cut the bullshit. I know that beyond our "differences," I could count on you in a time of need. You're dependable and strong, Lily."

"That was a really nice way to say "bitch," James." She whispered in a small voice, eyes back on the cauldron sitting idly in front of them.

The sixth-year boy laughed. "You're not a bitch, Lily Evans." She smiled. "Now, if I assure you that I don't interpret your lack of "James"ing as a synonym for a murder mission, can we please go back to being normal and calling each other by our _real_ names?"

"Real names? I just thought-"

"I'm Potter and you're Evans." He cut her off. "What will the rest of Hogwarts think when they hear "JAMES!" being screamed down the corridor at 3 o'clock this afternoon?"

Her eyebrows creased together. "Three o'clock? What is—Potter!"

"See?" He grinned. "Music to my ears."

"What. Did. You. Do?" Flecks of anger were becoming apparent, red creeping into her cheeks.

"Easy there, Evans. You don't have to be such an uptight bitch."


	3. Hiccup

**A/N: I realized that I've had a chapter from fifth, sixth, and now seventh year in a row. This was not intentional and the rest of the chapters will not necessarily follow as chronologically. Each chapter is intended to stand alone. They should fit well together, but there is no overarching plot, aside from the tragic story we know and love. For exposition sake, this takes place in their seventh-year, some time before Christmas. They're not dating yet, but it seems as if they may be soon. *winky face***

 ***Disclaimer: I do not, nor do I wish to ever, own the rights to the magical world of Harry Potter that J.K. Rowling has so graciously welcomed us into.**

Lily quietly climbed through the portrait hole, so as not to wake the head boy in the adjoining bedroom. She had told Hestia she would help her with Transfiguration about five or six hours ago. It didn't take long for the two witches to get lost in the euphoria of being together in their old dorm, casting aside the Transfiguration textbook in favor of Firewhiskey and chocolate. Lily rarely ever drank, even though she was technically of age. It just did not appeal to her. _Why would someone ever want to lose control of their own thoughts and actions?_

Hestia had always had a way of convincing Lily to compromise her morality for the sake of "friendship." So, here she was, several hours after curfew, attempting to sneak back into the head dorm to avoid questioning from James Potter, who would surely be asleep in his own room at this hour. She was indubitably _drunk._

To her dismay, the small common room shared by the head boy and head girl was not dark when she slowly pushed open the portrait hole.

He was seated by the small fireplace, in an oversized sweatshirt and plaid pajama pants. Books and parchment were sprawled over the couch, with a few having been forgotten on the floor. _Those are going to slide under the couch and get lost,_ Lily thought to herself. She internally groaned at her own string of consciousness. Even drunk, she was far too worried about others. The curse of the "mom friend."

He was holding a book, _Practical Defence Against the Dark Arts_ , so close to his face it was difficult to believe he could actually read the words on the page. There was a mug of abandoned pumpkin juice sitting on the table and a plate of food that had not been touched. Lily recalled that she had not seen the head boy at dinner. _Had he been here this entire time? Eight hours?_

As she walked further into the room, she noticed there were not only parchments on the floor, but something a little more out of place as well. Sticks. _Sticks on the floor of the head common room?_ The pieces of wood were a variety of sizes and shapes. Some still had leaves attached to them and some were almost big enough to be considered logs. _How did he even get these in here?_ Lily _almost_ gave into her curiosity, but, remembering her current situation of intoxication, decided the questions could wait until tomorrow.

She clipped the corner of a table as she tried to swiftly navigate to her own room. The lamp shook and threatened to topple over entirely. Lily attempted to make a grab for it, but, in her drunken state, only managed to knock it over.

James' head snapped up. "Oh…" He calmed down, seeing the perpetrator was only Lily. "Hey, Evans." Back to his book.

 _Well, that wasn't so bad._ She continued to silently walk towards her bedroom door.

"Wait." _Damn it._ "It's 2am."

"Excellent internal chronology skills, Potter. That what you're reading up on? A useful skill against the Dark Arts, I'm sure." The redhead sighed, pausing at her door to quip back before she entered her room.

James set his book down. "Don't be smart with me, Evans. It's well after curfew. What have you been up to?"

"Nothing." Hiccup. _Damn it again._ She refused to turn around from her door and give him the satisfaction of seeing just how out of sorts she was.

"Well, if you've been up to _nothing_ , you won't mind helping me with this for a minute."

"Really, Potter, I should be going to bed. It's late and I have-"

He ignored her. "I know that the focus of the spell has to be on the object and not the environment. But when I try and eliminate the environment, I have a hard time with landing. It's like I can isolate either the velocity or the object itself, but I'm having a difficult time doing it for both."

"I'm tired, honestly. Can you ask-"

"So, I guess my biggest question is how I can focus on the object and maintain the velocity. I was finally getting the velocity at a consistently slowed down rate and then my targets started sort of, erm, exploding, in mid-air."

Lily sighed. He was nothing if not persistent. "Okay." She turned away from her door and walked over to the couch. "Let me see you try." Hiccup.

James tossed a nearby stick almost to the ceiling. Quickly as it reached the peak of it's arch, he shouted, "Arresto Momentum!" The stick momentarily slowed, before speeding up all at once, bursting into tiny splinters right before it hit the ground. _So that's where the mess is from._ He looked at Lily and shrugged. "I don't know what I'm doing wrong…"

Lily took out her own wand and motioned for James to throw another stick into the air. "Arresto Momentum!" The stick immediately slowed and continued to fall at a consistent, feathery pace until it safely landed onto the couch.

James groaned in frustration and moved his hands toward his head before looking at Lily and choosing to shove them into his pockets. "This is a spell for second years. Why the hell am I struggling?"

"It's not a second-year spell. It's actually quite complex." Lily thought for a second. "Let me see you do it again." Hiccup. The room was starting to spin.

James complied, murdering yet another twig.

"Okay, so I think it's in the follow-through. Once you cast the spell, you have to continue to guide the object down at the velocity you want it to go." She threw a quill into the air and demonstrated, admittedly with difficulty. The spinning was speeding up and her head felt _so heavy._

James tried again, this time safely landing the stick on the ground, if not a bit roughly. His eyes lit up. "Yes! It didn't explode!" Lily giggled, a loud hiccup intruding into the laughter.

James looked at her with surprise in his hazel eyes. "Lily Evans, have you been…drinking?"

Hiccup. "No."

"My god, Evans, you're drunk!" He jumped up from the couch.

Lily pulled away from him, sputtering. "No, I'm not! I had a _tiny_ bit of firewhiskey with Hestia and it didn't even affect me."

James quirked an eyebrow. "Well, then you need to see a doctor about those hiccups and that _smell."_ He leaned closer to get a better whiff, immediately jumping back. _"_ Merlin, Lily, did you gargle with that stuff?"

Lily frowned, blowing hair out of her face. "Not drunk."

The head boy smirked, moving his hands from his lap toward his head once again, then quickly opting to cross them over his chest instead. "After curfew _and_ intoxicated? Why, Lily Evans, I think I've been a bad influence on you." He took his seat back on the couch next to the girl.

The red-head turned away and pouted. "Hestia made me."

"Oh, I bet she did. So should I take the points from Gryffindor? Or would you like to do the honors?"

Lily whipped her head back around. "Very funny, Potter."

His face was serious, though. "I'm not kidding, Evans. We're head students. We can't bend the rules to our advantage. We have to choose to have integrity."

The sarcasm in Lily's eyes receded. "Wh-wh-what?" Hiccup.

"I would expect you to do the same for me." He nodded, solemnly in her direction.

"But I didn't-"

"Do you think 25 is fair?"

She sputtered. "25?! What? N-No!"

"You're right. This was really your first double offense, so we could probably do 20. Although if McGonnagall tries to declare a bias, then I'm pointing all fingers toward you, Evans. Honestly, the things I do to cover for you. It's getting a bit ridiculous. What with the broom closet snagging incident of a few weeks ago-"

"Th-the what?!"

"-and the cheating on Slughorn's last exam-"

"I didn't ch-"

"-and of course when you attempted to murder Dumbledore last week."

 _Oh._ "You're…kidding…" Slowly.

His faux firmness was replaced with a trademark grin. "Who knew that drunk Lily was even more fun than sober Lily?"

"You hate me." Hiccup. She leaned deeper into the couch, closing her eyes and willing the room to stop spinning. "This room hates me. Firewhiskey _hates_ me."

He laughed, leaning back, next to her. "It happens to the best of us."

She scooted closer to him after a few comfortable minutes of silence. "I'm going to put my head on your shoulder, Potter, but it's only because I'm very dizzy and you look very sturdy and I think if I walk to my room, I'll vomit." She slurred, moving her hair to her left side as she placed her cheek on his shoulder. "We're not in love, okay?"

He chuckled, warmly. "I think I can deal with that, Evans."

A few more minutes of silence. He wasn't sure if she was still awake, and he wasn't sure if he wanted her to be. "Hey, Evans?"

"Hmm?"

"Are you in love with that Goff guy?"

"Shh. Too late. Too dizzy. Sleep. Need."

"Because if you are, that's cool. But he's kind of a git and I kind of hate him and so I just thought I'd like to know exactly where we stood with him."

"We?" Hiccup.

He shrugged the shoulder she was leaning on, bouncing her head and causing her to groan. "Yes, we. As in the united front of head boy and head girl. I think it's best if we are on the same page with everything. So do we love this guy? Or are we just shagging him until the main event comes along?"

Hiccup. "Potter, it is far too late to be discussing my intentions toward my boyfriend. I'm sorry-our boyfriend. And I really don't like the use of the pronoun "we," when discussing shagging him."

"I just meant-"

"Purely for the sake of being on the same page-" Hiccup. "we're not in love with Danny Goff. And we're not shagging him. In fact, we are quite aware of his git status and plan to end things with him as soon as this round of exams is over."

"Oh." She felt his hands raise from his chest toward his head once more, before rerouting back to his lap.

She sat up in frustration. "Merlin, Potter, mess your bloody hair up."

"Wh-what?"

"Do it. I know you want to. Take those stupid hands and put them in your stupid hair to fulfill whatever stupid nervous twitch you have."

He stared, defensively, at the redhead. "I don't have a nervous twitch."

"Yes." She said, pointedly. "You do. And look—I know I've insulted you about it before, but I'm over it. Time has taught me that it's not an intentional personification of your ego. It's just something you do." She put her head back on his shoulder.

After a few minutes, she slurred, "Danny really is a git." Hiccup.

James laughed a deep chuckle that Lily could feel through his shoulder. "Yeah, he really is."

"Ya know, Potter, when you're not disagreeing with me, I kind of don't mind being around you."

"Well, gee, Evans, you really know how to make a bloke feel special." He sounded offended, but she could hear the smile in his voice.

"I just mean that when we're not fighting, I kind of almost think you're funny. And nice." Hiccup. "When did that happen?"

He chuckled again, moving his arm from the back of the couch to drape over her shoulder, casually. "I've always been funny, Evans. And you're just saying I'm nice because you're all liquored up."

"No." Her speech was getting slower. "You're nice. Like real nice."

He finally gave in and reached his free hand up to his hair, running his hands through it one, two, three times. "Well, I guess we all have to grow up sometime, huh?" His voice was still light, but she could hear a new quality about it. He had put a lot of thought into this subject before.

"It just takes some people longer than others." She jokingly nudged him, bringing back the deep-diving conversation to the surface. The idea of having a serious conversation with James Potter was frightening and Lily Evans wasn't sure if she was ready for that yet.

He gave a small snort in response before settling into contemplative silence. She had grown up a good deal, herself, in the past year. With the intensifying threats of Voldemort, it was getting more difficult to just focus on getting good grades and who's dating who at Hogwarts. People were dying. Hogwarts was safe—at least it had been so far. But in a few months, she would be graduating and entering the "real world." A world that was becoming overwhelmingly dominated by people who didn't think she had the right to practice magic, and, in some cases, even be alive.

She thought about the boy sitting next to her. He was a pureblood. His fears were not the same. But Lily had learned too much about the head boy to think he didn't suffer from a different kind of fear. James Potter desperately feared for the safety of his friends. Lily considered the boy's actions over the past six and a half years. They always came down to the same thing: devotion. To an occasional fault, certainly. But everything James did was out of commitment and love for his friends. If you were special enough to find yourself in the circle of people he cared about, you could rest easy, knowing you had a hell of a support system. _Am I in that?_ Lily thought to herself. She considered verbalizing this pondering, but decided against it, knowing the looseness of her lips was only due to her intoxication.

"You smell nice, too." _Where had that come from?_ Hiccup.

He laughed, loudly. "You are _so_ drunk, Lily Evans."

Hiccup.

"And merlin, does your breath smell _awful_."

 **A/N: Thanks for reading! :)**


	4. Shake

**A/N: The context of this chapter is quite self-explanatory. Baby Lily and Baby James make my heart happy. Baby Sirius is cute, too. :)**

 ***Disclaimer: I do not, nor do I wish to ever, own the rights to the magical world of Harry Potter that J.K. Rowling has so graciously welcomed us into.**

Overwhelming. It was all so very _overwhelming._ Severus has been preparing her for months, but nothing could have readied her for this.

She didn't expect so many other children. It was comforting, in a way, to know there were this many _freaks_ her own age. But also disconcerting, considering how she only knew one of them, and she wasn't sure if they would end up at the same table after the Sorting ceremony was finished.

 _"_ _You'd better be in Slytherin."_ He had said. Slytherin. She struggled to remember exactly what Severus had said about that house. _Ambitious. Cunning._ Truth be told, Lily had a difficult time associating herself with those words. Yes, of course she desired success and was willing to work very hard to achieve that. But she didn't want success for the sake of being "the best." She simply wanted to do the job to the best of her ability for the sake of being a decent, hard-working person.

 _Ravenclaw. Intelligence. Creativity._ Lily smiled a bit thinking about the blue and gold clad students sitting at a long table behind her. In primary school, Lily had always grasped the material easily. Arithmetic was simple and English was common-sense. She had always been highly praised by her teachers, which was a welcome contrast to the teasing she had gained from her Muggle peers.

"RAVENCLAW!" The sorting hat seemed to invade first-year Lily Evans' mind as Rebecca Becker, who had been standing next to Lily only minutes before, smiled broadly from the stool, happily jumping up and walking over to her new housemates.

 _That has to be a sign!_ The red-head thought to herself, squeezing her eyes shut and willing Ravenclaw upon herself.

Three other students were sorted into houses, including Sirius Black and James Potter, the less-than-pleasant boys she had shared a compartment with on the Hogwarts Express. Then, suddenly:

"Evans, Lily."

Severus squeezed her hand next to her and whispered, "See you at the Slytherin table." as she walked away and up to the stool. She sat down, slowly, and continued to take in all the sensations the Great Hall provided. Hundreds of eyes looked back at her. Lily had never been one to thrive under attention. She closed her eyes again and waited for the hat to be placed on her head.

She had watched several students get sorted and wondered how they could possibly sit still for so long. The Sorting Hat was in no hurry. It maintained dialogue with itself through the entire process, feeling no sense of urgency in sorting each child.

Lily took a deep breath as she felt the hat start to sink down on her head. Before she could release the breath, and before the hat was even completely on her head: "GRYFFINDOR!"

 _Gryffindor. Impulsive. Attention-seeking. Selfish._ As she stood up, handing the hat back to Professor McGonnagall, she searched for the eyes of the boy who had described Gryffindor to her in such disgust this past summer. She found his black eyes, and saw how they sank even further into their sockets. He looked hurt. As if she had slapped him across the face.

She took another breath and walked a bit quicker toward the Gryffindor table, unable to withhold a smile as she thought about everything the next seven years would hold for her. She approached the table, excitedly, looking for a place to sit as she had watched the other students do after they were sorted. Sirius Black caught her eye and motioned for her to sit next to him on the bench. She held back an eyeroll as she walked toward the seat. _It's not as if I know anyone else._

"You were on the train! With the greasy boy!" He leaned close, shouting over the applause of the Great Hall as another student was sorted—Hufflepuff. She leaned away in disgust.

"His name is Severus and he's my best friend!" She defended.

The long-haired boy smirked. "If you say so." He turned his attention back toward the front. _Rude._ He hadn't even properly introduced himself.

Another Ravenclaw was sorted.

The boy on her other side turned around, offering his **hand**. "Hi, I'm James."

Lily smiled, taking the hand. "I'm Lily." Perhaps she had misjudged him on the train. He certainly seemed to have better manners than his friend.

He shook her hand, up and down, fervently, with a grin that was hard not to return. As soon as he let go, he moved his hand toward his head, to mess his hair up. She watched him, curiously.

He saw her eyes still on him and grinned. "Not all of us rely on litres of hair grease like your friend, Snivellus."

Sirius snorted. "Nice one, James." Leaning clumsily across Lily to give him a high-five.

She pushed their hands away, sitting up straight. "His name is _Severus._ "

"If you say so." Both boys chorused, erupting into a fit of laughter.


	5. Pinky Promise

**A/N: Another seventh-year moment, still pre-dating! Although that sone is just a teeny tiny bit closer :-) sorry, but writing Dating James and Lily scares me because it has to be** ** _perfect._** **But, stay tuned...I'm building my courage! As always, thanks for reading. Much love.**

 ***Disclaimer: I do not, nor do I wish to ever, own the rights to the magical world of Harry Potter that J.K. Rowling has so graciously welcomed us into.**

"I swear that never happens!" Lily threw her hand over her mouth, trying not to let another unattractive snort erupt from her mouth. Tears were forming at her eyes and her stomach ached from the laughter that had been racking her body for the past fifteen minutes. "Help!" She cried between laughs. "Can't! Stop!"

The dark-haired boy sitting across from her on the floor was in no position to help. His hands were wrapped around his body as he tried to reel in his own laughter. His eyes were squeezed shut as the hysterics took control of his entire being. Every time he opened his mouth to speak, a new unintelligent sound came out, overshadowed by more giggles.

Lily struggled to take a deep breath. "Okay…" More laughter. "This is it. I'm…going to count to…three." She couldn't stop. "And then that's it!"

"One…" The laughter escalated from both parties.

"Two." They both attempted deep breaths.

"Th-three." Lily gasped in copious amounts of air and held it in a bubble for several seconds, willing the laughter away.

James, too, managed to get a hold of himself, finally opening his hazel eyes to look at the red-head sitting on the floor across from him.

"Okay, so…" A few more small, breathless giggles escaped Lily's lips. "…maybe those weren't the exact words. But thats how I remember it—honest!"

"Lily. You have a lot of things going for you." James shook his head, grinning bigger than he had grinned in a while. "But please…do me and the rest of the wizarding world a favor and never attempt to sing again." Lily giggled.

" _Ever._ " He reiterated.

"Deal." She held up her pinky, pushing the hair out of her eyes with her other hand.

He looked at her extended **hand** , confused.

"It's just a pinky promise." She reassured him.

"A pinky what?"

"Oh Merlin!" She squealed. "Tell me you know what a pinky promise is."

He shook his head, slowly, still a little suspicious. "No…should I?"

" _Should_ you?" She asked, incredulously. "God, Potter, you've made it seventeen years in this world without knowing what a pinky promise is?"

"Okay, sorry, I've been a bit concerned with learning how to defeat dark wizards and the like. Minor stuff when compared to your pinky promises, _I'm sure._ " He defended, good-naturedly.

Lily rolled her eyes with a smile. "You make a fist-"

"I'm not going to punch myself, Evans, no matter how much you flirt with me."

"-and hold out your pinky. Like so." She demonstrated, looking rather like a juvenile first-year instead of the mature seventh-year he knew her to be.

He held up a fist, and attempted to raise his pinky, rather pathetically, offering a lopsided grin.

She rolled her eyes and huffed in mock frustration. Grabbing his hand, roughly, she forced his pinky out. "There." Interlocking his pinky with his, she smiled triumphantly. "Pinky promise!"

"Pinky promise." He echoed, slowly. He gave a small grin. "Is this a muggle thing?"

"No, it's just a kid thing. You were deprived of a true childhood."

"You're right." He agreed. "Who wants to grow up in a world where unicorns and trolls are real? Hell no—pinky promises are the _real_ magic. What were Mum and Dad even _thinking_? Some excuse for parents they are. Honest to Merlin, they just-"

"Shut up, Potter." She was smiling.

"So we learned a few things tonight." He stated, matter-of-factly. "Number one—you're an awful tutor."

"I am n-"

" _Number two_ …you're an even worse singer." She collapsed into a short fit of giggles at this one as he smiled and continued on. "And number three…you have incredibly soft hands."

She stopped giggling and looked at him, startled, before looking down and realizing not only were there pinkies still interlocked, but their entire hands had unconsciously woven themselves together. She pulled her hand away, abruptly.

He sighed, grabbing for her hand again. He had done it again-crossed that invisible line that seemed to get blurrier every day. "No, Lily, I didn't mean-"

She avoided his grasp and started scrambling around for her quills and papers which were strewn across his floor. "It's late. I should go to my room. Like you said, we didn't get much of our work done and I really need-"

"Evans. Stop rambling." He said, slowly, willing his eyes not to look away from her.

She closed her mouth and looked at him, pink creeping in to her cheeks. "James, I just…can't. I can't do it."

He looked pained. "Can't do _what_? Why does it always come to this? We get so close and then you're just…gone."

She looked down at her hands. "I can't be…that girl. It's just—it's not me."

"What _girl_ , Lily?"

She looked at him, emerald eyes round with desperation and… _fear?_ "Your girl."

He ran his hands through his hair in frustration. "Well, why the hell not?"

"I just can't." She looked back down, her voice quiet and far-away.

"No." He said, forcefully. "No. That's not good enough anymore, Lily. I want a real reason. A mature, adult, we're-about-to-graduate-and-enter-a-scary-world answer. Why can't you be with me?" His voice was escalating.

She shook her head, refusing to meet his eyes.

"Lily!" He stood up. "Merlin, Evans, I don't understand you. I want to. You know I do. But you have this big god-forsaken wall that you won't let anyone, least of all me, _James Potter,_ over." He spat his own name with venom, walking over to his dresser and picking up a chocolate frog card to twist idly in his hands. He stood there for a few seconds, before turning back towards Lily.

She hadn't moved. Legs crossed, hands in her lap, eyes downcast. He watched her for a minute, trying to understand what was going on under that scarlet hair. He took a deep breath, feeling sudden compassion for the broken girl sitting on the floor of his bedroom. He wasn't being fair.

This was Lily Evans. She had always made it abundantly clear how she felt about him. All of _Hogwarts_ knew how she felt about him. He should be in awe of the fact that she was even tolerating his presence, much less volunteering to help with Potions, and stepping foot into _his room._ She _hated_ him.

So why was this so damn hard?

He took a second to think about the past few months and how their relationship had changed. That wasn't just in James' mind—it couldn't have been. They were head boy and head girl that year. While things started rocky for them in their partnership, it wasn't as difficult as either of them expected to get into a comfortable routine. They weren't "friends," by any definition of the word, but they certainly couldn't be classified as "enemies" anymore, either. Then, October had come. Her parents had been killed. James was not so ignorant of his place in her life as to think he had any power to heal or console her, though he _so desperately_ wanted to. So, he just waited. He made himself available—purposefully intersecting with her every morning as she headed out for breakfast (earlier than all of her friends to avoid unwanted conversation) and coming to the head dorm early on Wednesdays and Thursdays when he knew she sat alone in the window seat of their shared common room. Nothing happened until after Thanksgiving. He just kept waiting. Until one night as they both sat in the common room, her staring out at the dark snow and him working on Transfiguration by the fire, she emotionlessly said, "Do you like checkers?" And how he could he say anything, but, "I love checkers."

Here they were, two months later. They had played over fifty checkers games (he won almost every one—he didn't like her _that_ much) since that night. Eventually, she told James pieces of her story. Nothing majorly substantial—but enough to give the head boy a glimpse into the darkness that had filled Lily's head and heart. After a while, she started to smile more and, eventually, she seemed almost like _Lily_. She didn't fool him, though. She still sat in the window on Wednesdays and Thursdays and she still side-stepped Hestia and Marlene's attempts at warmth and sympathy. She went to class, she ate, she went to the common room. No in-betweens. But, still—in his selfishness, he couldn't help but wonder why she didn't choose to go to her bedroom. He couldn't help but wonder if maybe—just _maybe_ —she was starting to enjoy the presence of James Potter.

But that was stupid. Nothing had changed. Her parents were dead. He was just a decent bloke who happened to be present and like checkers.

"I'm sorry." He said softly, still flipping the chocolate frog card around. "I'm not being fair. I just thought that…but…I know. It's okay. I'm sorry I said anything." He looked over at her and noticed her head bob. She sniffled. _Oh God._ She was _crying._

He walked across the room and dropped back onto the floor next to her. "Lily?" He tentatively put two fingers under her chin and forced her to look at him. "Lily. Please don't cry. Please. It's okay, really. I know that we're not friends or anything. Like you said, it's really late and I'm just tired and that's the only reason I said anything. Really—I know that I used to always—"

She choked on a sob as her lips twitched up. She was _laughing_ now. Talk about hysterics. "Potter. Stop rambling."

"No, I was-" He paused. "Was that a…joke?" He raised his eyebrows. "Evans, did you just mock me…?"

She laughed another broken laugh, wiping her eyes, as the tears continued to fall. "I sounded far less stupid when I said it."

"Evans, you can't just take the piss from a guy who just made you cry."

Her smile slowly disappeared and she took a deep breath. "Pott—James." She looked at him, the remaining moisture in her eyes adding shine and intensity to her gaze. "We're friends."

"O…kay." He swallowed, unsure of what she desired for him to respond.

Another deep breath. "I know how you feel about me." She closed her eyes, gathering all the Gryffindor bravery she could muster. "I just…I need more time."

"Wh-what does that mean?" He wasn't sure what he had expected from her…but it wasn't that.

"Time. I need it. I'm not ready for this…this…" She gestured between them. "This whatever it is. I can't give myself completely to you right now and I can't bear to hurt you by giving you any less in the meantime. I need time."

He stared at her.

"You just love too hard and I just fall too fast. It's a horrible combination, truly, and I just can't set it in motion right now. Not…yet. With Mum and Dad…and Tuney…and…" She trailed off. But he knew. He _knew._

She stood up. "I think it might be too late." She picked up a quill. "The falling thing. And the loving thing." A parchment. "But I just need more time." She crossed her arms in front of her torso, gripping the parchments and quill. "You're overwhelming in all the best ways, James Potter, and I just need to be vacillant for a while. I've had too much overwhelming this year." She bent down to pick up her textbook. James continued to sit cross-legged on the floor, looking at her. "I need to learn how to eat peach cobbler without crying and how to not flinch at my own last name. I can't handle memorizing what your lips feel like or becoming even more intoxicated by your smell." The last piece of parchment. "It wouldn't be fair to me and it wouldn't be fair to you." She paused, thinking. "Let me become Lily Evans again. I need to do that for myself. For my parents."

She walked toward the door that led to the common room. She paused, with her hand on the door. "I'll get there, James. I will. I just need…time." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes, before placing her hand on the doorknob.

"Pinky promise?" His voice sounded so small.

She turned around to look at him with a sad smile. He was holding up his fist, pinky extended. She set the books on the desk by the door and walked over to lock her pinky with his. He tenderly kissed her fist, as she drew in a slow breath. "I've always thought of myself as a very patient person." He stared at their hands, hanging between them, for a moment before shifting his gaze to her eyes. "I've had six and a half years of practice, you know."

She smiled at this truth that she had always known, but never truly considered the weight of. "I pinky promise."


	6. Breakfast

**A/N: Okay, I think I'm finally getting into the swing of this and I like each chapter a bit better than the one before! For context purposes: this is fifth year, pre-Snape at the Lake debacle. So, definitely in the heat of the "annoying Potter" era. But man, oh man, is Sirius Black un to write dialogue for. :) Please give me any feedback you have so I can better myself! xoxo**

 **PS, this has very little to do with the "Hands" theme I was going with although a hand is mentioned hahaha, I just had this little scene pop into my head and had to scrabble something down, regardless of whether it fits or not.**

 ***Disclaimer: I do not, nor do I wish to ever, own the rights to the magical world of Harry Potter that J.K. Rowling has so graciously welcomed us into.**

"Oh, look who decided to descend from the seventh year girls' dorm." Marlene McKinnon poked Lily's side, gesturing with her stormy-grey eyes toward the entrance of the Great Hall. Sirius Black was entering the dining hall with a certain swagger that exceeded his normal strut. He held his head eye in a posture of twisted victory and didn't seem phased by the stares from the other students at his late arrival to breakfast.

The redhead rolled her eyes in disgust. "He already went through all of the eligible girls in our year and in sixth, so it's the natural progression of git-ness that he would move on up."

Marlene snorted, unattractively. "Nice job on the ' _eligible_ ' verbiage there, Lils." She stabbed at a piece of sausage on her plate. "Better than your usual use of 'sensible' or, my personal favourite, 'girls who value themselves.'" She shoved a forkful of meat and eggs into her mouth, not bothering to finish chewing before she added, "As if I don't hate myself enough without your added disapproval."

Lily gave her friend a small smile. "Sorry, Mar, but that's a hard one for me to overlook. Samuel Torque, Evan Nichols, Calum Knight. Hell, I can even see your weakness with Trevor Mond. For a Hufflepuff, he's…charming," said Lily, wincing as she considered that particular affair of Marlene's. It had ended especially bad; apparently boys don't take lightly to being sent to the hospital wing on a first date and Marlene had taken heat from the entire house after that incident. "But… _Sirius Black?_ Geez, Marlene, you _stooped._ "

"I was drunk!" The brunette quickly defended. "Gryffindor won the cup! I was just _celebrating_ with the house and then—"

"You were _celebrating_ with the beater," Lily supplied, grinning.

Marlene put her head in her hands. "In his bed. Naked."

Lily's grin widened as she squeezed her friend's shoulder in mock sympathy. "It happens to the best of us."

The Gryffindor girl gave a sarcastic bark of laughter. "Except for you. _Lovely Lily_."

"Isn't she, though?" A new arrival to the table chirped, taking the vacant seat across from the two girls. "Although, you should be on the end of one of her bat-bogey hexes." Sirius Black reached across the table to grab a piece of toast from Lily's plate. "Not so lovely then."

The redhead swatted his hand. "If you're so hungry, try getting to breakfast on time for once."

"But then I'd miss out on this quality banter we share every morning." He grinned a deep grin that shined from both his shockingly white teeth and sparkling grey eyes. It wasn't hard to see why girls fell so easily for this boy. Until he opened his mouth. "Pass me that jam, will ya, Evans?" He didn't wait for her response, clumsily reaching across her plate to grab the jelly. "Thanks, love."

"Well, I'm off to meet Alice to walk to Charms. See you there, Lil?" Marlene quickly stood up, stuffing a few last bites of sausage into her mouth.

"Leaving already, McKinnon? You haven't even eaten all your breakfast." Sirius motioned to her half-full plate, chomping on Lily's toast obviously.

Marlene frowned in disgust. "Lost my appetite. Funny how that seems to happen every time you come around."

The dark-haired boy just grinned. "Interesting, because if my memory serves me right, last May—"

" _Alice is waiting_ ," she hissed, grabbing her bag from under her chair and marching away.

Sirius laughed after her and dragged the abandoned plate toward himself. "So, Evans," he looked at her, hurriedly scarfing down a forkful of eggs. "Any plans for this weekend?"

"It's a Hogsmeade weekend, Sirius. I'll be in the same place as you and almost every other student at this school." She sighed, already exhausted by the effort required to hold conversation with Sirius Black.

"Funny you should mention that. I happen to know someone who fits the bill of 'every other student at this school' and happens to be dateless this weekend," he announced, with a grin.

Lily closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "No, I will not go out with Potter. You can pass along the message in as few or as many words as you wish, Black. Now if you'll excuse me, I—"

"Oi! James! Prongs!" Sirius seemed to take no notice of her words, choosing to lean back in his seat and yell down the length of the table toward his best mate. The boy in question, James, looked away from where he had been laughing with Remus, Peter, and another fifth-year Gryffindor, Will. Sirius exaggeratedly waved him over with his arms, still grasping a piece of toast. "Come down here, mate! Big news!"

James obliged, happily, picking up his entire plate and shuffling toward Sirius and Lily. Sirius moved down the bench to make room for his bespectacled friend. "Evans, here, was just telling me how she has absolutely no plans for this weekend and so I told her you found yourself in a similar cucumber and she thinks it best if y'all mend the situation by going together."

James' face brightened. "Is that right, Evans?"

Lily huffed in frustration. "No, I —"

"I told her you would have to think about it, of course," Sirius interrupted, turning toward his friend and seeming to block Lily entirely out of the conversation. "We can't have the school thinking you're a slag or anything."

James laughed, good-naturedly. "Good call, mate. Although," he looked at the dangerous redhead quickly before turning back to Sirius, "she has been asking _forever._ What do you think? Should we throw her a bone just this once?"

"Honestly, Potter, if you—" Lily aggressively attempted to jump in.

James held up a **hand** to stop her. "It's alright, Evans. I get it," he nodded his head, in mock understanding. "You're fifteen, your best mate has a different boyfriend every week, and your only real association with the superior gender is through Slimeball Severus." Lily's frown turned into a snarl at this point, but James pressed on. "You're…lonely."

" _Potter_ …" She began, icily, only to be stopped once again.

"Can I get back to you or do you need an answer right now? I just need to confirm on my schedule that this weekend is a good one for me." He turned back to Sirius. "Padfoot, is this weekend when the Cannons play?"

Sirius thought for a moment. "Nope, that's next Saturday. This weekend is just the Wasps."

James snorted. "The Wasps are rubbish this year," he paused before turning back to Lily. "Alright, Evans, I've decided. Yes, I will go to Hogsmeade with you." He smiled wide.

"James Potter, you arrogant, egotistical—"

"Moony! Wormtail!" Sirius' voice rang down the table, interrupting her once again. "Prongs said yes!"

Remus laughed as Peter gave a big thumbs up. "Nice one, mate!"

Sirius turned back to Lily and James. "Well, I must say that it's about time. I was getting sick and tired of Evans hanging around all the time, a bit like a hurt puppy if you ask me—"

"I thought you were rather fond of puppies, Padfoot?" James winked at his friend, sharing some unknown humor.

"Well, this one," he gestured toward the fuming redhead, "is more your speed." He looked at Lily, acting as if he were seeing her for the first time. "Oh, sorry, Evans, did you want to say something?"

Lily slammed her fork down. " _I hate you_. Both of you."

"There's no need to keep up the act, love. He said yes! You can be public about your affection now. In fact, I think perhaps I should go ahead and make an announcement to the rest of Gryffindor now."

James looked at his friend in surprise. "Why stop there, mate? Let's dream big. The entire Great Hall deserves to know. Do you want to cast the Sonora charm or should I?"

" _Guys,_ " Lily hissed venomously. Both boys looked toward her. "I'm being _serious._ "

The two boy stared at her for a long second, and then, "Evans," Sirius said. "That was the worst impression of me I've ever seen."


	7. Dancing

**A/N: Hello! I had a particularly really evening and it gave me all the warm feelings and all the push that I didn't know I needed to finally write some pure Jily fluff. To avoid confusion: this is towards the end of their Seventh year-they ARE dating (obviously). Enjoy! All the love. (And also happy first day of Autumn!)**

 ***Disclaimer: I do not, nor do I wish to ever, own the rights to the magical world of Harry Potter that J.K. Rowling has so graciously welcomed us into.**

"Come on."

Lily rubbed her eyes, looking up from her textbook. "What?"

The messy-haired boy sharing the couch with her squeezed her feet from where they were resting in his lap. "Get up. We need a study break."

She squealed as her stockinged toes curled from his touch. "Don't touch my feet, Potter! You know I'm ticklish…" She fixed him with the best stern face she could muster, fully aware of it's weakness. She lost the ability to be angry with this boy the day she discovered how much better it was to kiss James Potter than it was to yell at him. "We just took a break half an hour ago." She returned her eyes to the book in her lap.

He pushed her legs off of him and crawled up the couch to lay with his head next to hers. " _Half an hour ago,_ " he pouted, miserably, burying his face in her neck, and wrapping his arms tightly around her.

She laughed, leaning away from him. "Go get something from the kitchens or something if you want a break so bad. I have to finish this chapter!"

"The kitchens are so _far…_ ," he complained, releasing a breath in frustration. He was delighted to see several red, wispy hairs around her ear sway from the breath. He blew again, purposefully aiming for the patch of hair. Suddenly, it was a game to see if he could selectively choose which hairs would be affected from his breathing.

"James, what are you _doing!_ " She set her book in her lap in exasperation, turning her head to meet his at eye-level. He grinned back at her, with adorable boyishness.

"Your hair is fun." He stated, simply. She couldn't help but laugh. "And yours is _incorrigible._ " She moved her hand to quickly give his head a good muss. "Now, leave me to my Transfiguration."

"You're seriously studying Transfiguration right now?" He craned his head to catch a glimpse of her book. "I can't believe you're ignoring me for the easiest subject at Hogwarts."

She slammed her book closed. "James Potter, do you _want_ to be single?"

He barked with laughter. "I'm sorry, it's just that your super hot boyfriend is literally an Animagus and you're stressed about turning a potted plant into a pocket watch."

"Remus is an Animagus?" She deadpanned.

His jaw dropped. "Low blow, Evans. _Remus_ is a werewolf, thank you very much."

"Bet he's still more charming at his worst than you are at your best." She smirked, opening her book back up.

He looked at her, appalled. "Oh, that's it." He pushed himself up from his sprawled out position, pushing Lily's book off her lap and onto the common room floor.

"Hey! I ne—AGH!" Her cry was interrupted as he pushed her entire body off of the couch toward her book. She looked up, astonished, to see her boyfriend— _not for long_ —peeking over the edge at her with mock innocence. "Sorry, the couch was just a bit small for the both of us." He grinned, impishly, before retreating his head back.

She rolled her eyes in amazement, unsure why she was as surprised as she was. This is what you get when you date a _toddler._ "Help me up, Potter."

His head returned. "Are you kidding me? You have your precious book. Read it down there in comfort."

"I am not going to read my textbook on the _floor_ when there is a perfectly available couch." She hissed.

"But, you see, Evans," he began, "the couch is actually quite occupied and, _Merlin_ , does it feel nice—OOF." She threw her book at his face.

"Move over, you oaf." She had pulled herself into a sitting position and was staring menacingly at him, wand now at the ready.

"Are you going to _hex_ me, love?" He arched an eyebrow in amusement before actually considering who he was talking to. _Yes, she bloody well would._ He swung his feet around in seeming defeat, but instead of making room for her, he jumped up, pulling her with him.

"What are you doing, James...?" She was beyond the point of exasperation. He simply pulled her close in response, taking her right **hand** in his left and wrapping his other arm around her back.

"Let's dance."

She couldn't help but laugh. "There's no music."

He looked at her in disapproval. "Lily Evans, you are six days from graduating Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and you seriously just said, _'There's no music!'_ You're a witch, for Merlin's sake!" As she continued to laugh, he retrieved his wand from his pocket and flicked his wrist toward the record player in the corner. The object rocked back and forth as if it were waking up before sputtering to life.

"A nonverbal to turn on a Muggle record player? Show-off." She taunted, beginning to sway with him, as the light jazz hummed in the back.

"Just trying to out-charm Remus. It's always a competition these days, honestly. NEWTs, my parents, and now apparently birds, too." He didn't feel the obligation to make eye contact with her, choosing to rest his head on top of hers as they swayed to the music. The comfort he felt with Lily Evans was one of the things he most valued about his moments with her. "You see…I've got this thing for this particular red-head. She seems to prefer _intellectual_ boys, though. But, Merlin, she's beautiful. Right fiesty little thing, too. That's not even the best part, though—she's got a heart of pure gold. Gentle, forgiving, and so bloody kind." He didn't have to look at her to know she was smiling. "Pity she's absolute rubbish at dancing."

She shoved him hard in the chest, laughing all the while. The room danced along with them as he spun her in dramatic circles over and over, finding it impossible to hide his grin as she giggled every time her skirt flared out from a twirl. "One more spin!," she would cry, looking at him through crinkly eyes. And what power did he have to say no to that? His smile grew as he noticed the Transfiguration textbook, open and long forgotten on the floor by the couch. There was a certain sort of thrill knowing that every other soul in the caste had long been asleep. The words "abuse of power" quickly floated to James's mind as he considered his headship and the fact that they were four hours past curfew, all the way across the castle from their own dorm. Just as soon as the thought entered his head, it exited with a new wave of Lily Evans giggles. He closed his eyes to memorize the sound and lock it in his heart for bad days. Nothing could top the size of the smile on his face when he thought about how useless that was, considering the girl in his arms was going to be there for all of the rest of his bad days _and_ good days. His mind flashed to the small jewelry box sitting in the drawer of his dorm dresser. As he continued to bask in the sound of Lily's angelic giggles, he fought the urge to go grab the box now and just _do it._ But not every moment needed to be a big moment and he decided that this particular 4am study session in the Gryffindor common room held it's own sort of magic. Magic that didn't come from a big question or life-changing decision.

This magic came from drinking too much hot cocoa and cramming for exams and twirling pretty redheads.


	8. Lumos

**A/N: Two updates in one weekend, wow! This is set toward the beginning of first-year. It hurts my heart to think about little Lily Evans being self-conscious about her lack of magical knowledge, but I also think it would be a realistic thing for muggleborn witches and wizards. I also think we can each relate to this in some way, thinking about our first days of school or first days playing a sport. It's so natural to compare yourself to your neighbors, as painful as it is. It also makes my heart happy to think of little James as an advocate for muggleborns, even in the height of his arrogance and conceit.**

 ***Disclaimer: I do not, nor do I wish to ever, own the rights to the magical world of Harry Potter that J.K. Rowling has so graciously welcomed us into.**

The classroom was abuzz with activity as first-years frantically ran about, searching for partners. It was quite a task for an eleven-year-old—finding someone you liked enough to work with who didn't already have a partner. "Hurry along now," Professor Flitwick chided from his pedestal at the front of the room.

Lily Evans searched the crowd in a panic, eyes wide. Gryffindors were with Hufflepuffs for Charms, so Severus wasn't an option, and she'd really only made one friend in her own house. She noticed with a sting of hurt that Marlene McKinnon was already standing next to another first-year Gryffindor girl across the room.

"Is everyone paired up? Raise your hand if you don't have a partner, please," Flitwick instructed. Lily slid her hand up, embarrassed to notice she was the only student without a partner. "That's alright, Ms. Evans, you can join another group for this activity." She was pleased to see Marlene smile and motion her over.

Flitwick began. "Now, today, we will be continuing our lesson on basic mechanical spells. These charms are things you will use in everyday life. Many of you have no doubt already been observing and participating in these very enchantments around your wizarding households for your entire lives!" Lily felt a stab of humiliation, knowing that she was one of the few first-years who had certainly never witnessed even the most fundamental of charms. "Today, we will start with the illuminating spell, which we call Lumos. To master this enchantment, you must—" He trailed off, looking toward the back of the room, where a small boy with crooked glasses and messy hair had just tumbled in. "Ah, Mr. Potter. Your promptness is truly astounding."

The boy ran his hands through his hair, nervously, stuttering, "Sorry, Professor, I…"

"Never mind. Ms. Evans, it appears you have a partner after all. Kindly join Mr. Potter right over there and assist in catching him up to speed." He motioned with his short arm toward two empty chairs. "Now, as I was saying…Lumos is a fundamental, yet powerful spell that will allow you…"

The professor prattled on as Lily gathered her textbook, parchment, and quills and slunk over to James Potter. She shot him a look of disgust as she jerked his textbook out of his hands and flipped to the corresponding page, shoving the book back toward him on the table, redirecting her attention to Flitwick.

"Oi, Evans," he whispered, leaning close. "What's going on?"

Lily rolled her eyes, hurriedly hissing out the side of her mouth. "We're learning an illumination charm."

"Lumos?" he questioned.

"Yes!" she venomously whispered. "Pay attention."

"Oh, this is _easy!_ " he grinned, reaching for his bag and rummaging, noisily, through it.

Lily felt the sense of embarrassment again as she considered how behind she was from other students who had grown up in magical households. She chose to ignore her feelings of inferiority and listen intently to Professor Flitwick. "…the position of your wrist is not as important as the clarity of the incantation. It is integral that you—"

 _Crunch._

Lily darted her eyes toward the boy sitting next to her, noting with horror that he had leaned back in the bench, propping his feet on the table in front of him, and was eating an apple. "You can't eat in the classroom," she quietly murmured.

He leaned close to her and said, "You can't talk either, but look at us," a smirk dominating his face. The bespectacled boy took another loud bite of the apple as Lily huffed in frustration.

"…together with me please. _Lumos._ " The class, sans James, echoed with their own various versions of, "Lumos!"

"Very good! Let's all try it again, a bit more clear on the onset, if you please. Lumos!"

Lily noted with frustration that James had not bothered to participate at all and was finishing his apple. He began to twist the stem with his right **hand** , quietly chanting, "A…B…C…D…E…"

Lily elbowed him. "What are you doing?" she questioned in a dangerous undertone.

He responded with a grin. "J…K…L…oh!" The stem popped off. "Looks like I'm going to marry someone whose name starts with the letter L." Lily's cheeks were immediately decorated with red. "Let's see…there's Lucy Young in Ravenclaw, but she's not very fit. Lara Hryhorchuk is in Gryffindor, but she's a sixth year. Who else? Lena LeBlanc…Leticia Prewett…oi! Lily Evans, I completely forgot about you!" He grinned, devilishly, sliding his feet off the table and scooting closer to the aforementioned down the bench.

The redhead craned her head away from him in disgust. "Get away from me, Potter. I wouldn't marry you if my life depended on it."

"The apple doesn't lie, Evans. Your hair is a bit too red and you're a bit of a prick, but I think we could make it work." He wiggled his eyebrows, pitifully, attempting to recreate the charm he had witnessed the older boys perform so often.

"Mr. Potter! Ms. Evans! If your conversation is of more importance than my teaching, then you must be fully prepared to demonstrate to the class." Professor Flitwick's irritated voice rang out. "Ms. Evans, if you please…"

Lily Evans blanched, realizing that she had just been called upon to perform a spell she knew absolutely nothing about. Her mind flashed through a million potential scenarios and everyone one of them ended in her total humiliation. _I'll never make any friends now,_ she thought to herself.

James looked at the girl next to her and noticed how pale she had gone. He felt a stab of compassion for the redheadl, quickly standing and saying, "Actually, Professor, Lily was just teaching me how to do it properly. I grew up doing this spell with my mum and dad, but it's always been pretty weak. Lily helped me make it better." He didn't give time for the Charms professor to speak, quickly withdrawing his wand from the pocket of his robes. " _Lumos!"_ An impressively bright light was immediately emitted from the tip of his wand, seeming to fill the whole room with an almost tangible radiance. Students all over the room vocally shared their wonder and amazement.

Flitwick couldn't contain his smile. "Excellent job, Mr. Potter! And Ms. Evans for the guidance! Ten points to Gryffindor!" He clapped his his hands, before turning to readdress the rest of the class.

James dropped back down to his seat, pocketing his wand. Lily shyly turned to him and mumbled, "Thank you…I…didn't know…how to…"

He waved his hand, motioning for her to drop the apology. "It wasn't a big deal. I just wanted to show how ace I am at Charms."

Lily wrinkled her nose in disgust, about to argue his selfishness, when he added, in a quieter voice. "But it's okay. It's not your fault your parents aren't wizards. I actually think its kinda cool that your parents are muggles." Then, looking at her with wide-eyed curiosity, he added, "Do you have a telephone?"

Lily didn't answer him, choosing to turn back to Professor Flitwick to avoid future embarrassment, but she couldn't hold back the small smile that played on her lips.


	9. Werewolves

**A/N: Here in Texas, the weather is taking a bit of time to realize that it's late September and not July, but this morning was rainy and even the slightest bit of** ** _crisp!_** **Add a nice cup of tea and it was the perfect ambiance to get me in a happy writing groove. :) This one is sometime during third year!**

 ***Disclaimer: I do not, nor do I wish to ever, own the rights to the magical world of Harry Potter that J.K. Rowling has so graciously welcomed us into.**

Sirius Black elbowed the shorter boy next to him. "Go on, mate. Ask her."

The redheaded third year looked suspiciously at the boys lined up in front of her. Two minutes ago, all four had stumbled from the stairs that led to the third-year boys' dorm. They had marched straight across the common room to where Lily Evans was laboring over a Potions assignment. She looked up, startled, when the four boys stopped directly in front of her desk and stared at her. Nothing good ever came from the coalescence of these particular four Gryffindors and she really didn't have time for their shenanigans. After Sirius prompted James to speak, Lily narrowed her eyes. "To what do I owe the displeasure?"

James grinned, albeit a bit shakily, reaching his hand up to nervously lace through his hair. "Well, Evans, the boys here and I were talking and we reached a disagreement about something, so we need someone to break the tie."

Lily stared at the messy-haired boy with a mix of undisguised distaste and confusion. "You're telling me that out of every Gryffindor, you couldn't find any individual more willing to help you than _me?_ " She raised an eyebrow in continued suspicion. "I find that hard to believe considering I head the efforts that have been ongoing of the past three years to get you lot expelled." She cast a quick glance to Remus, adding, "Sorry, Remus, but you need better friends."

The lanky boy's eyes danced with humor. "That's quite alright, Lily. I've been saying the same thing since first year."

Sirius slugged him, provoking an irritated " _Oof!_ ," before turning back to James Potter. "James, mate. Ask Evans your question. About our _disagreement._ "

Lily crossed her arms and fixed them with a hardened glare of curiosity. "Go on."

James stepped forward a bit. "What do you know about…" He leaned in to Lily, lowering his voice. "…lycanthropy?"

She looked surprised. "Like werewolves?"

Remus aggressively shushed her, eyes quickly darting around. "Not so _loud_ , Lily!"

The red-head complied in lowering her voice, speaking slowly, confusion evident in her voice. "I don't know much about them, honestly. We don't get to dark creatures until next year, at least." She noticed Remus shutter.

He turned to the other boys. "See? I told y'all. _Dark creatures_. She doesn't know anything. Let's go to bed." He spun on his heels and trudged toward the stairs.

Sirius watched him walk away a bit in silence before turning to James. "I'm going to go with him. You'll be up in a bit?"

James absentmindedly, nodded, staring after Remus with a frown. "Yeah, sure. Pete, you can go ahead and go with Sirius. I won't be long." Peter nodded and left with Sirius.

James moved to sit in the other chair at the desk. Lily looked at him, expectantly, waiting for him to say more, but he just stared, contemplatively, at the stairs to the third-year boys' dorm. Lily blinked and returned to her work.

After a few minutes, the bespectacled boy said, "Whatcha working on?"

Lily didn't look up from the textbook. "Potions."

"Oh. Me, too." He hummed. Lily looked over at him with a raised eyebrow. He was sitting, still blankly looking toward the boys' dorm, with nothing in front of him. Certainly no Potions book.

She decided to ignore her curiosity and return to her work. She was supposed to have a report on the basics of draughts completed by tomorrow morning and she was nowhere near complete, thanks to the distraction by the third-year boys.

"There's a Quidditch game this weekend," he said, suddenly. _Is he even conscious?_

She set down her textbook, sighing in defeat. "What?!"

"Quidditch. This Saturday. I'm a chaser, you know." He hadn't taken his eyes away from the stairs.

"Yes, Potter. I, along with every other student who possesses functioning ears and eyes, knows you are the saving grace of the Gryffindor Quidditch team." She rolled her eyes. It was not as if he made it very easy to forget.

He finally looked away from the stairs and focused on the red-head sitting in front of him, looking as though he were seeing her for the first time.

"You really don't know anything about werewolves?" He pushed his glasses up his nose, staring intensely at her.

"I mean…I've read a bit about them. Why are you in such need of information?" He was all over the place tonight and she was certainly not following him.

He answered, quickly. "I told you. The boys and I need a tiebreaker." With as much trouble as he caused, James Potter really was a rubbish liar. "So, hypothetically—for the sake of tiebreaking—werewolves and animals. What is their relationship like?"

"Well…" Lily shifted in her seat, pushing her book back. "When someone is under the influence of their lycanthropy, they basically are an animal."

James looked, thoughtful. "So if a werewolf were to bite an animal, what would happen?"

"I guess nothing. Lycanthropy doesn't affect animals. They can't become werewolves." James chewed over her words for a bit. "Does that break the tie?" She sighed, picking her book back up.

He quickly pushed the book back down. "Not quite." She blew hair out of her eye in frustration. "What if an Animagus was involved?"

Lily shook her head. "Werewolves aren't animagi. They're humans who have-"

"I know. I mean, an animagus with a werewolf. What would that look like?" He scooted his chair a bit closer, still using hushed tones and sending furtive glances around the common room every few seconds.

Lily thought for a second, before reaching under the table for her book bag. James huffed in irritation. "Please don't ignore me for a book just this once, Evans."

The redhead popped back up, holding a textbook above her head. "I'll have you know, Potter, that there is not enough interesting information about you to fill even one _chapter_ of this book." The bespectacled boy opened his mouth to argue, but Lily silenced him with her hand. "This is the Defense Against the Dark Arts textbook for next year."

James's eyes widened. "For next year? But that's in the-"

"If you spend more time listening to professors than disrespecting them, you gain useful resources, Potter." She set the book down, caressing the cover. "But then I guess I couldn't expect you to understand."

"What with Quidditch and a social life, I don't really have as much time to snog professors as you apparently do."

"Chapter fourteen happens to contain a great deal on werewolves." She scanned the table of contents before flipping toward the back. "There." She slid the book toward James.

He looked at her, his mouth twitching with the tiniest bit of apology and regret, before looking at the pages set before him. He scanned quickly, using his finger to follow along. After a few minutes, he pointed to a paragraph and looked to Lily for help. "Read this and tell me what you gather from it." She looked at him with raised eyebrows in anticipation. "Please." He added, sticking his tongue out.

She gave a smile of victory and shifted her gaze back toward the textbook, reading aloud. "Werewolves' senses are heightened at-"

"No, further down." He pointed, before folding his hands together in his lap.

"Werewolves and animagi." Lily readthe title of the section, before proceeding to follow along the rest of the page silently. After a bit, she looked up at James. He was staring toward the stairs again, folding and unfolding his **hands** over and over again. She studied him for a bit, wondering what had him in such a state of nervousness. "Potter?"

He blinked and quickly snapped his head back to her. "What do you think?"

"I think that humans in Animagi forms are perfectly safe from werewolves."

James took a breath, slumping his shoulders a bit in obvious relief. "Really?"

"I think so. You should ask Professor McGonagall to be sure, because-"

"No, no, I can't ask her." His eyes shifted toward his hands, which were still twisting round and round each other.

"Potter."

"Evans." He didn't look away.

She paused for a second, before slowly proceeding. "This isn't just about some bet with the other boys, is it?"

James' mouth twitched a bit before he threw on a trademark smirk. "Of course it is, Evans. And you just helped prove that I'm right! Thanks for that. Maybe I'll let you in on the reward." He sent her a wink.

She was unfazed. "Can you promise me that no one is going to get hurt? This isn't another stupid prank, ri-"

"Evans." His hands went still. "This isn't like that. Trust me."

"Okay." She had known Potter well enough to recognize his antics and this was something different. She decided not to press for details, but there was something serious underlying.

He looked back toward the book. "Erm—do you think I could maybe look at that book sometime?" He picked it back up, flipping through chapter fourteen. "Not to actually read it for anything in particular, but just to, ya know…look smart."

 _To look smart. Right._ "You can take it with you. I don't need it for anything. It was just for recreation."

His eyes lit up. "Really? Could I take it now?"

Lily couldn't help but smile at his excitement. "Sure. Just don't lose it, okay? It's on loan."

"I'll take excellent care of it, swear to Merlin. Thanks, Evans, contrary to what Sirius and the rest of the student population of Hogwarts says…maybe you're not as boring as—"

"Potter. Don't make me regret this."

He hopped up from his seat, grabbing the book. "If this is your idea of recreation, we need to find you a hobby. Have you looked into underwater basket weaving? Or perhaps cross-stitch is more your speed?" He grinned towards Lily, who was shooting him a dangerous glare. "Well, g'night, Evans. Sleep tight," then in a lowered voice, "don't let the werewolves bite." With a wink, he was gone, racing up the stairs to his friends.


	10. Disaster

**A/N: Some more sixth year fun!**

 ***Disclaimer: I do not, nor do I wish to ever, own the rights to the magical world of Harry Potter that J.K. Rowling has so graciously welcomed us into.**

 _You're my sister, so Mum says I have to send you an invitation, but she doesn't have to know that I'm also sending this additional attachment._

 _Don't come to the wedding, Lily. Please. It can be your wedding present to me. I can't handle the disaster that you always seem to bring. Not on my wedding day._

 _I hope all is well with you and that you can understand._

Disaster. It was one thing hearing harsh words from Petunia for years, but an entirely different thing to see it on paper. So tangible— _disaster._

This letter was not filled with anger or bitterness, as many of the previous letters from Lily's sister had been over the years. It was formal and succinct. The content was presented as fact versus opinion, which made it hurt all the more.

Lily lost herself in painful nostalgia, remembering how different things had been before Hogwarts. The sisters had so often talked about their futures. Petunia was going to marry Greg Bush, from down the street. Lily was to be the maid-of-honor, of course. The wedding colors would be green and cream, so as to go nicely with Lily's eyes and not contrast her red hair. The bouquet would be sunflowers, like the ones that grew in the field behind the Evanses' house. Greg would cry as Petunia walked down the aisle. It would be the perfect day.

"Oi! Evans!" A deep voice interrupted Lily's thoughts.

She shook her head, looking up from the letter in her lap toward the boy entering the portrait hole. James Potter entered the room, school uniform rumpled and untucked, with his Quidditch bag slung over his shoulder.

"I've got questions for you." He walked purposefully toward Lily's couch and threw his bag on the ground with a thud, slouching next to Lily. The redhead quickly folded the letter she was still holding and shoved it under her thigh. If he noticed, he didn't comment on it.

"First," he began, "when did the password change? The Fat Lady just gave me a hell of a time. Thank Merlin a second-year was walking by to let me in."

"New passwords were passed out at House meeting last night," she responded, with slight irritation evident in her voice. "You would know that if you bothered to show up."

He gave a nervous, lopsided grin. "Heh, sorry 'bout that. I got held up with some…erm…homework."

Lily rolled her eyes in suspicion. "Homework that involved you and all three of your fellow hooligans? Remus missed the meeting and he's a _prefect_ for Merlin's sake."

James pushed his glasses up his nose. "Yeah, well…he was helping us with our homework. I'm right rubbish at Transfiguration, y'know? And Peter? Even more of a sorry story. I'm pretty sure he turned a broom into a carrot instead of a quill."

"You're ace at transfiguration and you let every one around you bloody well know it. Save your lies, Potter," Lily cut him off with a wave of her hand. "I don't care enough for you to waste your energy."

He smiled, sheepishly. "Erm…right. So, second question. What do you know about gravity?"

"Gravity?" She looked at him in surprise. "Only what I learned in primary school. What goes up must come down."

James nodded, his glasses sliding back down his nose a bit before he reached to shove them back up. "Yeah, but there are…numbers…associated with it, too, right?"

"Numbers…like math? Yeah, there's some math involved. Formulas and such." Her interest was peaked. "Why?"

"Formulas," he mulled that word over in his head before looking at Lily. "Do you have access to information about formulas like that?"

She thought for a moment. "Not here at Hogwarts, but I could get easy access with an owl to my parents," she explained. "Why?"

"Well…quidditch."

"Quidditch," she echoed, slowly.

He adjusted his body toward her on the couch, tucking one lanky leg under his body, entirely. "Yeah, Quidditch." Saying the word again seemed to bring his entire body to life. His eyes gained light and they sparkled as he continued. "So, I have an idea for a new play for this next match. But it involves a lot of speed and dropping altitude…fast. Basically, it's all defense. One beater will be on our seeker as a sort of consistent guard. The other will be more of a fake-out. Dropping really low, really fast. " He used his **hands** , animatedly, as he spoke. The sixteen-year-old teenager sitting in front of her swiftly transformed into a young boy as he continued to explain his idea in elaborate detail. His hazel eyes danced.

Lily nodded, slowly. "Okay…that makes…sense." She thought for a moment. "But why gravity?"

"I need to know how fast I can have this guy plummet toward the ground…"

"Without him dying?" Lily supplied.

James grinned. "Did you know that the initial impact wouldn't kill you? It would just break all of your bones. It's the bounce that does the damage," He continued on, once again using his hands to illustrate a body dropping from the sky and bouncing. "On the bounce, your already broken bones pierce your organs." His grin widened, almost in victory, as he snapped his fingers in front of her face for emphasis. " _That's_ what kills you."

Lily was staring at him with wide-eyes of fear and apprehension. This boy was truly mad. "It's a wonder anyone shows up to try-outs."

James was unfazed by her words, choosing to laugh and settle deeper into the couch. "So, Evans…can you help me out?"

She thought for a moment. "For the sake of me not having to witness any human _bounces_ …I suppose so." She looked to him, carefully. "I'll write to my mum tomorrow and see if she can send me some Muggle pages on basic physics."

He smiled with glee. " _Yes!_ Thank you, thank you, thank you! When we win the cup, I'll be sure to mention your contribution."

"No need, Potter. You can have my share of the credit—I know you need it to support the size of your head."

"She's smart _and_ selfless!" The messy-haired boy quipped, throwing an exaggerated hand over his heart. "You have to admit that my idea is brilliant."

"It's…innovative." Lily nodded, slowly.

"See, Evans? We make a pretty good team when we're not hexing each other, me and you."

She gave a short laugh. "If only we could keep all of our interactions so academic in nature."

James pulled his feet out from under him and stretched them to be elevated on the coffee table in front of them. "So, tell me, Evans," he leaned back, closing his eyes. "What puts you alone in the common room when I happen to know all of your mates are with all of my mates in the Astronomy tower?"

Lily could feel Petunia's letter burning under her thigh. "Just catching up on schoolwork. Plus, I'm not incredibly interested in a house-wide game of Exploding Snap. I rather like my eyebrows and wish to keep them."

"Save your lies, Evans," he opened one eye to investigate the redhead sitting next to him. "I care far too much for you to waste your energy."

A hint of pink crept to her cheeks. There he was: New James. Always making an appearance at the most unexpected of times.

For the first five years of their relationship, James and Lily could hardly handle being cordial. There was the occasional camaraderie of a House victory or a required partner assignment in Charms, of course. For the most part, however, the entirety of Hogwarts knew that any room containing James Potter and Lily Evans was sure to be explosive. The volatility of they relationship had reached it's climax with the incident by the lake after O.W.L.s last year. Then, this year had come and brought _New James_ , as Marlene and Hestia so loved to call him. He rarely interacted with Lily in public at all these days and when he did, it was almost… _average._

Summer hols had produced a quieter, responsible-r (but let's not get ahead of ourselves), _taller_ James Potter and Lily hardly knew how to interact with him. He didn't take her bait as often and so the arguments were fewer and far between.

All that aside, there had also been the few private interactions, this year, that had caused Lily to question everything she thought she knew about this boy. In the rare instance they caught each other alone, James had continued to surprise her. The past five years of shallow insults and innuendos had been replaced with maturity and…depth. He listened when Lily spoke and asked questions with the actual intent of caring about her answers.

Lily took great pride in her confidence and ability to remain resilient against the words and actions of others. But there was something about this new James Potter that threw her off and caused her to stumble just a bit.

Lily attempted to portray sarcasm as she produced a dry laugh. "Mocking me, Potter?" She rolled her eyes, perhaps a bit too exaggerated to mean it. "I answered your gravity question. Go singe your eyebrows off with the rest of our year."

He remained still, eyes closed in a peaceful, almost sleeping manner. "You can't ditch me that easy, Evans. What's got you all ruffled up?"

Lily thought to Petunia's letter. _I can't handle the disaster that you seem to bring._ "I received a post," Lily said, shortly, deciding that she would be brief. This was James Potter, after all. He wasn't entitled to the private parts of her life.

He didn't open his eyes or say anything. She looked at him, willing him to speak or get up and leave or _something._ "It was from my sister," she added, quickly. _Where did that come from?_

"Petunia." It wasn't a question; it was a statement. Lily was thrown off again. She was positive she had _maybe_ mentioned her sister's name once in the presence of this boy. He remembered.

"Yes," she said, slowly, pushing some loose hairs behind her ears, "we don't always get along very well."

"Can I read the letter?"

Lily's mouth twitched. "I don't…think…I just—"

The Gryffindor boy sat up a bit on the couch and removed his glasses, rubbing his eyes, as he said, "It's a letter, Evans. You can't give it more power than it deserves." He looked at her. "If you let me read it, it just becomes a random letter." He held his hand out, expectantly.

The redhead chewed on her lip for a second, mulling over his words. Slowly, she pulled the letter out from under her leg, smoothing her skirt back down. She timidly placed the letter in his grip, hesitating to relinquish her grasp on the piece of paper. James gave her a small reassuring smile, just quick enough to notice, not slow enough to acknowledge.

He pushed his glasses back onto his nose and scanned the page with his hazel eyes. Lily waited, anxiously, for him to finish reading and make a comment on her dramatics. He was right—it was just a letter. Why had she let it affect her so much?

She glanced at his face to see him readjust his eyes back to the top of the page again and begin rereading. Finally, he handed the letter back to her. He took his glasses back off and closed his eyes, slouching into the couch again. "I'm glad I'm an only child."

Lily couldn't stop the laugh that erupted from her mouth. It wasn't forced or dry, like the usual laughs she conjured in the presence of James Potter. It was authentic and cathartic. Needed. "Yeah, she can be a bit of a—"

"Bitch." Another statement. No hint of uncertainty in his voice.

Lily cast her eyes back to the paper she was fumbling in her hands. "Yeah," she said, softly.

They sat in silence for a bit. She waited for his next move, no longer confident in her ability to predict James Potter. Suddenly, he stood up, replacing his glasses and staring down at Lily. "Come on, Evans. Our mates need us."

"What?," she said, incredulously. _Honestly, this boy's mood swings._

"Exploding Snap. They need extra players." Statement. How was he always so damn confident?

Lily stayed seated. "How do you know?"

"They always need extra players for Exploding Snap. Come on." He held his hand out to held her up.

She looked at him, questioningly. "I'd actually prefer to stay here, if it's all the same."

"It's not all the same, Evans. You're moping and letting your sister win." He shoved his hand emphatically toward her. "Come on. Don't be weak."

Red returned to Lily's pale face, this time not in a blushing context. "You have _no right_ to call me weak, Potter. You don't know any—"

"I'm not going to baby you like all of your friends do, Evans. Your sister issues aren't going to fix themselves. So you can let them define you or you can continue to live the magical life that you've been gifted with. You can't change your sister's jealousy."

 _Jealousy._ It seemed only yesterday that Severus had called it that, as well. But Lily Evans wasn't the ten-year-old girl in the park anymore, desperately searching for an explanation of her sister's directed animosity. She thought deeply for a few moments, considering the fact that Severus had been right. That James was right. Was it really that simple? Just an issue of pride and misplaced desire for something unpossessed. _Yes,_ she realized with a deep pain. All of these years, Lily had sought reconciliation in a variety of ways. It suddenly hit her that there was no true hope for restoration. Bitterness could be smoothed over. Misunderstanding could be explained. But the only way to end jealousy was to even the odds. Petunia Dursley would never be a witch and Lily Evans would never be a Muggle. The revelation that it was Lily's very identity that separated her from her sister hit her heart, hard.

"Evans?" the concerned voice of James Potter interrupted her thoughts. "Sorry if I was a bit harsh there. I know I don't know your sister or anything, so I'm sorry if I jumped to a conclusion that wasn't true, but I—"

"No," Lily said in a distant voice. "You're right. She's jealous." James didn't say anything, but she could feel his eyes boring into the side of her face as she stared toward the fire of the common room. She blinked and turned to meet his gaze. "Let's go play Exploding Snap."

His eyebrows raised. "Really?"

"Really. Help me up, Potter, this couch is far too comfortable," she said resolutely, as he grabbed her outstretched hand. She stumbled into him as she underestimated the strength he would contribute. Her hands quickly grabbed his shoulders for support as she caught herself. She blinked a couple of times before tilting her head up and coming face to face with James Potter. His mouth twitched uncomfortably as he dropped his hands from her waist and she stumbled backwards.

She cleared her throat. "That," she began, straightening out her skirt, "was your first lesson on gravity. Any force acting on another can cause disaster."

He gave her a small smile. "Disaster?" he questioned. He stepped closer to her, leaning near her ear and whispering, lowly, "You're far from a disaster, Lily Evans. Don't let anyone tell you any differently." He hovered there for a bit as she held her breath. Then, he pulled back and walked toward the portrait, leaving a stunned Lily Evans. She wanted some time to sift through the entire interaction and all of the emotions it had produced in her.

"Coming, Evans? My eyebrows are simply itching to get some fire action."

Lily smiled, following him to the portrait. She could always do some sifting later.


	11. Wonder

**A/N: Back, back, back again. Leave a review and tell a friend! (Please.) (I hope you sang this.)**

 ***Disclaimer: I do not, nor do I wish to ever, own the rights to the magical world of Harry Potter that J.K. Rowling has so graciously welcomed us into.**

 _"_ _What happened?"_ Green eyes filled with horror as they took in the bleeding boy in front of her.

"Nothing a little kiss couldn't fix, I'm sure. How 'bout it, MacDonald?" the shaggy-haired boy slurred in a pathetic attempt at a wink.

"I'm going to refrain from hexing you because I'm pretty sure you're going to die without my help tonight, Black," Mary MacDonald retorted, though the intended sass was replaced with genuine fear and worry. Lily watched as her friend's wand swished, expertly, slowly closing little bits of skin on the shredded body of Sirius Black. "Merlin, what did you boys _do_ tonight? Go have a moonlight picnic with the whomping willow?"

For some reason, this made James and Sirius give each other a funny look. The former boy was standing next to his friend, bouncing on his feet in anticipation, one hand behind his back while the other was embedded into his hair.

"You're gonna be fine, Padfoot. Absolutely fine."

"You trying to convince me or yourself, mate?" he hissed the last word, arching his back as Mary applied ditany to a particularly deep wound. " _Merlin, woman."_

"Hold still." Mary had never been one to deal with Sirius's crap.

Lily stayed quiet through the affair, dutifully fetching potion vials from the cupboard when needed. She watched the boy standing across the table from her with interest.

Half an hour ago, she had been reading silently in the common room when the portrait had slammed open to reveal an incredibly disheveled James Potter, hazel eyes ablaze and wild. When his eyes landed on the redhead, he had practically leaped towards her ranting about Sirius and blood and emergency and the potions classroom. He had begged her to help him with some healing spells, but Lily had never been very good at those, so she woke her dorm mate up and followed James without question. His only explanation had been that Sirius was badly hurt, but the professors couldn't know. She had originally assumed a simple prank gone wrong and vowed to dock points tomorrow, but that was before she got a look at Black.

"More sanitatem, Lil," a sharp voice pulled the Gryffindor girl from her reverie. Lily blinked and jumped the couple of steps to the closet, digging through Slughorn's supplies in search of the pink vial. The cupboard was disorganized and chaotic. "Lily! Sanitatem?"

"I'm _looking_ ," said Lily, a mix of irritation and distress clouding her tone. "It's pink, right?"

"I don't know what it looks like! You're the potions girl. It should be labelled! Just hurry up, we need to stop this bleeding _now._ "

Suddenly, Lily's frantic hands were joined by a new pair, these much larger and rougher than her own. Lily glanced to her left, quickly, to see a determined James Potter squeezing into the closet. She froze in her search for a moment, staring at him. "It's supposed to be alphabetical in here, yeah?"

"What?" Lily shook her head. "Oh. Yes."

"Is it—"

"JAMES!"

The Quidditch captain jumped in surprise. "I'm right bloody here, Evans! Merlin, why are you _screaming?_ "

"Your hand!" she shouted before he clamped the _other_ hand over her mouth.

"Hush, Evans, I'm fine." he whispered, hand still covering her lips. Her eyes were wide, peeking over his large fingers. He slowly pulled his hand away, eyebrows raised in a challenge, daring her to yell again.

"You are bloody well not _fine_ ," she hissed, grabbing for the hand that had retreated behind his back during the exchange. "What happened?!"

" _LILY! THE POTION!_ "

"WE'RE LOOKING, MARY!" she shouted back, holding her questioning of the fifth-year boy to resume her Sanitatem search. "There!" she sang, victoriously, grabbing the small vial and catapulting back toward her friend and Sirius. Her face blanched as she saw that the once-white cloth Mary had been using to stop the blood flow from Sirius's side was completely maroon.

"Is…is it working?" she asked, worriedly.

Mary shot her a glare. "I haven't applied it yet and I'm not a seer, so _I don't know_." Lily returned her gaze to the floor, backing away from the desk where Sirius was currently elevated.

Needing something to do, she turned back toward the supply closet, where James was still standing, looking rather nervous. "Let me see your hand," she whispered. He gave her a grumpy look and pulled it further behind his back, away from her. She rolled her eyes. "Potter…" she murmured, dangerously.

He begrudgingly shoved the injured hand toward her as she struggled to withhold a gasp. "What happened to you tonight?" she murmured, gently taking his very broken hand into her own.

James's mouth twitched. "Just got into a bit of…trouble."

"You and Sirius? Trouble? Really?"

"Yeah, but it wasn't—er…was that a joke?" he asked, awkwardly, eyes mesmerized by the way her hand caressed his own misshapen one.

A small smirk played at her lips. "Some might call it sarcasm." She pulled her wand out of her pocket. "You really should lighten up, Potter. _Episkey._ "

"MERLIN." he howled, jerking his hand out of her grasp and clutching it to his chest. Mary's head shot over to the teenagers for a brief moment in question before she seemed to remember the direness of her own patient. "What the bloody hell did you do that for?" he hissed.

"I just healed your hand, you idiot. _Thank you_ will suffice." He frowned at her in response. "As a gift of gratitude," she added, her voice dropping back to a hushed tone, "you can tell me what you boys were up to that ended with your bones being grinded and Sirius's torso going through a meat-mincer."

James winced at the imagery, shooting a worried glance toward his friend across the room. "Marauder secret, Evans."

Lily studied the wizard for a moment, willing her wit to crack the code that is James Potter. She tilted her head slightly to the right, red waves falling from her shoulder. "Who are you protecting?" she whispered, voice both incredulous and matter-of-fact.

"What?" he deflected with a slight flinch. "What does that even mean?"

She continued to watch him, emerald eyes burning a hole into his face, which—incidentally—was quickly heating up. "Did Peter do something stupid?"

"What?" James repeated with a bit of a jump.

Lily shook her head, slowly. "No…Remus, then?"

It was so minute, really. A less trained eyed would have certainly missed it. But Lily Evans had spent five years studying the antics of this boy and she knew exactly what to look for. He froze for a moment, eyes still glued to his friend on the desk several meters away. Then, his jaw set forward and he rose to his full six feet of height. His newly-healed hand twitched while the other one dropped to his side from it's permanent tangled place in his bird's nest. His nose scrunched for a quick moment before returning to it's normal place and his pupils dilated before they seemed to remember that they were supposed to be _playing it cool, playing it cool._ The witch watched all of these mechanical exchanges with a curious gaze and before he could defend himself or create some lie, she simply nodded with a quick, "oh."

His head snapped back toward her. "Oh?"

"Oh," she shrugged, returning her own gaze to Sirius and Mary.

"What just happened?" he pressed, a nervous edge obviously present. "Where did Angry Evans go? What are you thinking?"

She released a light chuckle. "I'm thinking," she spoke slowly, methodically, choosing her words like she chose her daily path to Gryffindor tower among the moving stairs, "that Remus is my friend…and if there's something about him that you think is better left unsaid," she paused, "then I need to trust you."

Now it was James's turn to study. _Was this a trick? Had she finally gone past the point of no return? Beyond anger and hexing?_ "And you're…okay…with that?"

"No," Lily admitted, quickly, "But I figure I don't have much choice with you lot." She shot him an accusatory smile. "And I know that you love Remus and want the best for him."

"We don't _lo—_ "

"Which is a very good thing," she pressed on, "because he doesn't love himself enough and really needs you three to overcompensate."

James grinned. He couldn't help it. The girl was a wonder— _truly_. Without any details on Remus's situation, she had somehow just managed to understand everything. When it came to loving her friends, Lily Evans didn't need explanations. She just did it. And what a _lucky bastard_ Remus Lupin was to find himself in that category.

"Now, listen, Potter," she was talking again and Merlin knew he was going to willingly listen to _whatever she had to say for probably the rest of his life now_ , "for the future," _there was a future?_ ",I promise not to ask questions. And I promise not to involve professors." She paused. "But you have to promise to be careful." _She cared._ "Because I can only handle so much shirtless Sirius Black before I gouge my own eyes out on the gargoyles."

Sirius's bright chuckle could be heard across the room. "I think she's warming up to us, mate!"

A wonder— _truly._


End file.
